


With the grain

by marginalia



Category: due South
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-05-17
Updated: 2006-05-17
Packaged: 2018-10-10 13:33:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10438782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marginalia/pseuds/marginalia
Summary: Inspired by this snippet from a Paul Gross interview:  "In Due South I never had a gun," says Gross. "It was made clear in the script that I didn't have a licence for a gun in Chicago, so all I had in my holster was a wedge of white pine." (The Province. Vancouver, B.C.: Oct 10, 2004. pg. C.15)





	

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by this snippet from a Paul Gross interview: "In Due South I never had a gun," says Gross. "It was made clear in the script that I didn't have a licence for a gun in Chicago, so all I had in my holster was a wedge of white pine." (The Province. Vancouver, B.C.: Oct 10, 2004. pg. C.15)

Packing for Chicago doesn't take long. Possessions weigh you down, in the body and the mind, and Fraser prefers to avoid attachment. He considers the requirements of Chicago and locks away his service revolver for the duration. At the Consulate, however, he will be in full uniform, and the holster of his Sam Browne cannot be empty. Perhaps it is just that he cannot be without the familiar weight at his hip.

He looks through odds and ends of wood, searching for the piece that wants to be a gun. His hand settles on a block of white pine, out of place in the North, but native in Illinois. Appropriate. Worrying.

Diefenbaker snores in the corner as Fraser blocks out the mock weapon. Carving is meditative, and he falls into the rhythm, stripping away all that is not to find only what is. He has the time tonight, the tools, and the determination to do the simple job well, and by the end he has an admirable replica of his standard issue. The soft wood holds heat different from the gunmetal, but the weight in his hand is familiar.

Fraser sets the carving with his pack and waits for morning.


End file.
